That's hot babe!
I think I'm progressively getting gay-er. God help us.
Quite a tipsy evening after finishing what was a 'greashhh' day at work.
The day started with my general manager calling to say he had a report to send me outlining the progression of my store over the past, say, 4 years, and that he wanted to chat about it when I had the chance. After being sent on a mission (fuck, I can't type) to trace this super-secretive fax, and after perusing the figures, it basically told me the store was going to the shit, with only a minor climb since I became manager. So I sat in the store, running through ideas of what would be needed to attain successful growth. Visual merchanding, storage options, staff moral, head office interaction....all of the above, were written down on my sheet as ways to better my store.
I was a nervous wreck before I called him back, probably due to the copious amounts of sugar laced coffee, or should I say, coffee laced sugar, that i had consumed in the morning. I had all guns ready to fire, ideas, justifications, reasons and criticisms.
"Okay, so looking at past figures, Dean, your store has been down, a gradual trend... The two months before you took up this position the store dropped in takings by nearly 25%."
"Uhuh, I noticed that...It appears to be something that has been happening over the past two years before that even, in consecutive months. The trend is obvious, even over the past two years before that...."
"Yes. Since you took up the role, we've been really happy, the store has had an increase. We're really happy."
"Say what?", thinking to myself...'nigga please...'
It was actually a positive phone call, with my general manager offering me all the things I need to better the store and take it to a point where we were three or four years ago. Hello budget! 'Hello morale, this is Dean speaking, how may I help you?' I then offloaded all my suggestions for the store, and he was really receptive... Probably just an act, but re-energising nonetheless.
So it was a time to celebrate and relax. I let the staff do their thing, and chill out. For the first time in a long time at work, I was satisfied. Happy even.
What's with girls kissing me? Steph and me in the fitting room... Hell yeah!
Our ceiling shot. See the crazy people I have to work with...
Dave, giving us ideas on races merchandising... 'a horse feed bag on the mannequins'... and our Beatles pose.
You gotta love the Spice Girls.
Our payslips are now coming in these weird ass light beige coloured envelopes... Which are see through... Dumb. Everyone was pearing at everyones payslips... But it doesn't matter, we all pretty much know each others packages anyway... and our pay amounts...Haha! Drunk. Rocked the store with the 161 CD, which I'm absolutely obsessed with now, with Steph doing the crazy 161 'wall' dance on the fitting room doors. Off their heads I'm telling you. Imma bought the craziest fuck-off shoes for her birthday which cost her a pay packet and more than her dress. But soo worth it.
Dave has this crazy idea for visual merchandising for the races season. Filling the window floor with empty San Pelligrino bottles, with single stem flowers coming out of each... I had to call all my customers who owned cafe's and restaurants to offload their empty bottles. I felt like I was in grade 6, collecting cans to take to the tip and getting 5c each for them. It was great to talk to some old customers though. I ended up sourcing bottles from a few cool cafes... It should be really good. At least my store will be sorted, and that's all that matters really... ;-).
I went to Hairy Canary looking for Marie after work, as Dave, Steph and I went for an afterwork bevvie. She wasn't there and Hairy was packed, so we headed to Gin Palace. She was there, downing Tequila shots to hype herself up for work, after she had broken up with her boyfriend about two weeks ago. She's a strong girl. We got talking, and she said she'd organise the bottles from Hairy to go to our store. Nice work. Then she gave us a free drink card (a bottle of champers, fuck yeah!) for the Canary Club down the road. We headed there and now I'm a bit smashed. No lunch, and an alcohol dinner. Gotta love it.
I write so much when I'm drunk. Greashh!
Mark visited today, and I felt so bad because I was so flat out when he came, that he polished off the coffee I got him, before I even had a chance to take a sip of mine. Anywho, he seems well which is awesome, he really deserves it. I miss him, and I promised to catch up with him for dinner next week. A good pop-bash is exactly what I need anyway. We'll most likely end up drunk and squealing Beyonce and Mariah songs down Little Collins. Wouldn't be the first time. Like that time we scratched 'That's hot babe!' into the Roy window... Then returning to the scene of the crime the next day to see Mel outside asking everyone what the hell the writing said. We didn't have the guts to tell her it was us, and that we were taking the piss out of her selling catch-cry. Good times.
My God. Dannii will be at Chapel St. tomorrow. I asked Claudia if I could swap with her for the day. She said no. She didn't give a fuck. I told you I was getting gay-er.
Love drunken blog entries.
PunkOnAir : Dannii Minogue - So Under Pressure
Quite a tipsy evening after finishing what was a 'greashhh' day at work.
The day started with my general manager calling to say he had a report to send me outlining the progression of my store over the past, say, 4 years, and that he wanted to chat about it when I had the chance. After being sent on a mission (fuck, I can't type) to trace this super-secretive fax, and after perusing the figures, it basically told me the store was going to the shit, with only a minor climb since I became manager. So I sat in the store, running through ideas of what would be needed to attain successful growth. Visual merchanding, storage options, staff moral, head office interaction....all of the above, were written down on my sheet as ways to better my store.
I was a nervous wreck before I called him back, probably due to the copious amounts of sugar laced coffee, or should I say, coffee laced sugar, that i had consumed in the morning. I had all guns ready to fire, ideas, justifications, reasons and criticisms.
"Okay, so looking at past figures, Dean, your store has been down, a gradual trend... The two months before you took up this position the store dropped in takings by nearly 25%."
"Uhuh, I noticed that...It appears to be something that has been happening over the past two years before that even, in consecutive months. The trend is obvious, even over the past two years before that...."
"Yes. Since you took up the role, we've been really happy, the store has had an increase. We're really happy."
"Say what?", thinking to myself...'nigga please...'
It was actually a positive phone call, with my general manager offering me all the things I need to better the store and take it to a point where we were three or four years ago. Hello budget! 'Hello morale, this is Dean speaking, how may I help you?' I then offloaded all my suggestions for the store, and he was really receptive... Probably just an act, but re-energising nonetheless.
So it was a time to celebrate and relax. I let the staff do their thing, and chill out. For the first time in a long time at work, I was satisfied. Happy even.
What's with girls kissing me? Steph and me in the fitting room... Hell yeah!
Our ceiling shot. See the crazy people I have to work with...
Dave, giving us ideas on races merchandising... 'a horse feed bag on the mannequins'... and our Beatles pose.
You gotta love the Spice Girls.
Our payslips are now coming in these weird ass light beige coloured envelopes... Which are see through... Dumb. Everyone was pearing at everyones payslips... But it doesn't matter, we all pretty much know each others packages anyway... and our pay amounts...Haha! Drunk. Rocked the store with the 161 CD, which I'm absolutely obsessed with now, with Steph doing the crazy 161 'wall' dance on the fitting room doors. Off their heads I'm telling you. Imma bought the craziest fuck-off shoes for her birthday which cost her a pay packet and more than her dress. But soo worth it.
Dave has this crazy idea for visual merchandising for the races season. Filling the window floor with empty San Pelligrino bottles, with single stem flowers coming out of each... I had to call all my customers who owned cafe's and restaurants to offload their empty bottles. I felt like I was in grade 6, collecting cans to take to the tip and getting 5c each for them. It was great to talk to some old customers though. I ended up sourcing bottles from a few cool cafes... It should be really good. At least my store will be sorted, and that's all that matters really... ;-).
I went to Hairy Canary looking for Marie after work, as Dave, Steph and I went for an afterwork bevvie. She wasn't there and Hairy was packed, so we headed to Gin Palace. She was there, downing Tequila shots to hype herself up for work, after she had broken up with her boyfriend about two weeks ago. She's a strong girl. We got talking, and she said she'd organise the bottles from Hairy to go to our store. Nice work. Then she gave us a free drink card (a bottle of champers, fuck yeah!) for the Canary Club down the road. We headed there and now I'm a bit smashed. No lunch, and an alcohol dinner. Gotta love it.
I write so much when I'm drunk. Greashh!
Mark visited today, and I felt so bad because I was so flat out when he came, that he polished off the coffee I got him, before I even had a chance to take a sip of mine. Anywho, he seems well which is awesome, he really deserves it. I miss him, and I promised to catch up with him for dinner next week. A good pop-bash is exactly what I need anyway. We'll most likely end up drunk and squealing Beyonce and Mariah songs down Little Collins. Wouldn't be the first time. Like that time we scratched 'That's hot babe!' into the Roy window... Then returning to the scene of the crime the next day to see Mel outside asking everyone what the hell the writing said. We didn't have the guts to tell her it was us, and that we were taking the piss out of her selling catch-cry. Good times.
My God. Dannii will be at Chapel St. tomorrow. I asked Claudia if I could swap with her for the day. She said no. She didn't give a fuck. I told you I was getting gay-er.
Love drunken blog entries.
PunkOnAir : Dannii Minogue - So Under Pressure
posted by Christopher at 8:19 PM
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